


The Third Pod

by obscureshipyard



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureshipyard/pseuds/obscureshipyard
Summary: Herc had given his son up for dead the moment those elevator doors had shut. But when they recover a badly injured body from a wrecked pod how will Herc handle it? When he finds his son returned as broken on the outside as Herc feels on the inside how will he ever come to terms with their broken drift connection?





	The Third Pod

**Author's Note:**

> Loved this pairing since first seeing the movie. Those poor boys needed a happy ending so I wrote them one, though they do take their time getting there in the typical pig-headed Hansen style. I own nothing, all credit to the creative team behind the film.

“There’s a third signal… it’s another pod.” Herc couldn’t breathe. His whole world morphed like a kaleidoscope then centered to one tiny focal point. A third pod. Someone else survived—might have survived. Reality cracked back into place so fast Herc could swear he felt his heart stutter and start again. 

“Vitals? Choi! Who is it?” His words felt slow as he shouted them. He needed to know. Could it be?

“I can’t tell. It’s definitely from Striker. That close to the blast everything must have gotten damaged. I can’t even tell if the pod is intact. It’s just signaling.” His chest was tight. He needed to know.

“Get them to pick the damn thing up!” Chuck hollered over his shoulder as he started to run. Helipad. He had to get there. An eight minute run, slowed slightly by a pause for the hobbling Max trying to keep up behind him. He couldn’t pick the lumbering pup up and carry him on account of his shoulder so he’d have to catch up. Herc couldn't force his feet to wait if he tried. He skipped the elevator. He needed to run, clear, if he stopped he didn't know if he'd scream or just explode.

A third pod. But who was in it? Were they alive? What would be better? Could he survive an empty broken hunk of twisted metal holding on to the last shredded remains of his friend? His son?

One pod. If it was Stacker would he be grateful? If it was Chuck… Herc’s chest crunched and burned as he forced himself to take in air. Just get to the helipad. He stole a glance at his wrist watch. Chuck had a matching one made from the same alloys as Striker.

Seven minutes had already passed. You’re getting slow old man. He could hear Chuck’s snide remarks in his head. But this was different. After years of drifting together they had of course developed the side effects, ghost drifting. But as soon as Chuck had linked with Stacker that bond had been severed. There was no longer an open pathway between them. Chuck had connected with someone else.

Herc had felt the terrible burn like a physical wound, but said nothing. There was nothing that could be done for it anyhow. He couldn’t sense Chuck anymore. Was he dead? Was his boy gone? Was he eaten by the war and beasts that tried to steal the world?

“Herc, damn it! Will you answer your comm?” Choi’s voice boomed over the hanger speaker. Just enough to rattle Herc out of his nightmares and start him running again. He quickly flipped his comm on.

“Go.” He snarled as he kept his pace down to the hanger floor towards the helipads.

“There you are! I’ve been calling you, practically sent up flares to try and get you on the horn.” Herc could hear the excitement and energy behind the other man’s voice. He had news. Herc hit the hanger floor at a dead run. Only a few hundred meters to the pads. Tendo was still blathering on about something pointless.

“Choi! Out with it!” He ordered.

“He’s alive, Herc! They got him alive, barely.” Something like joy grabbed him by the throat but it was tainted.

“Who?” The answer was cut off by the rage of the chopper fleet landing on the pads. He hanger doors were opened wide with salty air and so much wind filling up the great cavernous hangers. Herc was nearly thrown back by the maelstrom of air blown in by the choppers.

The lead chopper doors were thrown open and a crowd slipped out in jump suits of blue-gray, medics. Working together like ants hauling a heavy load the group pulled a gurney out from the chopper. On it there was a body.

Chuck.

His boy. All wrapped up in shiny silver blankets with wires and tubes already running in and out of him. Burns, Herc could see a few on the other man’s chest. His boy was burned. A ventilator mask covered most of his face. Paramedics swirled around and blocked Herc as he tried to get near. Everything was a blur, he couldn’t hear and yet his ears were full of noise. He followed the parade of faceless crew members wheeling his son away to the med unit. 

Hours. They kept him away from his boy for hours. Herc paced the hall outside where they had Chuck. He counted how many other people came in to and out of that room until he couldn’t count any more. Max lay by the door. The poor old pup was too fatigued from watching Herc’s prowling.

“He’s stable. He’s sedated right now but mostly conscious. The pod did its job with a majority of the radiation and compression waves. But he’s in bad shape.” The doctor was middle aged, attractive but Herc barely spared her a look as he took in her words.

“Can I see him?” He stared at the door as if he could will it open with his mind. Herc was tense and ready to race in, anxious for the gun to fire so he could launch himself forward.

“We won’t know the extent of the damage for a few days. Until then he needs to be kept in the ICU area, limited visitation, 24/7 monitoring.” She kept her tone low with a slow pace. Herc found it maddening.

“Can I see him?” His voiced echoed in the quiet hall.

“Yes.” As soon as the words was out he rushed in to the room. It was all a blur, racing in and…He stopped short. A large white curtain separated him from the harsh lighting, the beeping, the sound of labored breathing. Sedated but conscious. Herc couldn’t imagine how much pain Chuck must be in right now. He took slow steps forward. His ankles were suddenly jelly as he stepped through the break in the curtain.

“Chuck.” He breathed. Heavily bruised eyelids lagged upwards. Familiar blue eyes tried to focus on him. Herc took a shaking step closer.

“Dad.” The boy exhaled. Dried blood was crusted around his face, his neck, everywhere. There wasn’t a spot of clean undamaged skin on the young man’s body. And still his features crinkled up in a wan smile. He saw Chuck’s fingers move, extending outwards in his father’s direction.

“Chuck.” Tears burned his eyes. He didn’t care if the doctor’s came and pulled him off, Herc needed to touch his son. He rushed up close stopping just short of launching himself on to the bed. Carefully he wrapped his left arm around Chuck and pulled him close, breathed him in.

Chuck, here, here, Chuck here in my arms. Connect, connect, where is he?

Both men were breathing hard, touching, searching. Herc pulled back just enough to search out Chuck’s scent along his neck and jaw. Chuck’s fingers dug into the muscles of his father’s arms. Searching.

It was a frenzy that ended with Herc burrowing into Chuck all the more. He was practically climbing on to the bed. Without the drift connection there was something missing. A whole part of himself after so many years just gone. He needed it all: sight, smell, touch, taste.

Chuck tilted his head and Herc grabbed at the boy’s mouth with his own. Not even a breath passed between them. Herc’s tongue forced its way through, not that Chuck was rejecting. The younger man was equally needy, opening and taking his fill. Fingers were digging into his shoulders trying to pull him closer.

Herc knew he wasn’t coping well. He knew Chuck was alive, but they weren’t connected by the drift. He could see Chuck, smell him on his skin, taste him on his tongue, but his brain wasn’t processing it. The connection was still severed. He couldn't stop this. The need was out of control. He felt like a junkie gone cold turkey after so many years. But now his favored drug of choice was mewling beneath him and kissing him like he was starving for it.

A sudden deep bark broke Herc from his trance. Max, his son's dog, the base, the real world. He ripped away from Chuck who was still held to the bed by wires and tubing so he could not follow. Reality came crashing back into place and with it the shame.

“Fuck—I’m—I’m sorry.” Ankles, that once again seemed to be gelatinous, stepped back. He stumbled through the curtain. Herc turned and for the second time today he ran. Only this time it was away. He didn’t think about what he was doing. He didn’t listen to the desperate shouts echoing down the hall.

Twelve days passed before Chuck was released from the medical unit to walk around the dome. Ten days in the ICU, two more days of observation in a step down unit where he was at least let out of bed but not allowed to leave the small hall.

Herc had stayed away the whole time.

According to his doctors and nurses Herc was a constant apparition asking after him, visiting the unit when Chuck was in treatments or tests, venturing in to the dome or the city and getting Chuck anything and everything he requested that the med staff couldn’t instantly provide. But never once had he come to face him.

For most of his stay Chuck was so doped up for the pain he could barely tell what was an aching burn of ruined skin, the mending bones, or the gnawing ache in his chest from the severed bond. As he began to heal he could start to pick out the difference. By then he missed the days he was too high to think straight.

Herc was a coward, that wasn’t news to him. He could finally acknowledge the years of hiding this from his son, from everyone. With the loss of their bond he couldn’t feel the connection. It was a rude awakening to suddenly realize how dependent he had become over the years.

But now that he had lost even that ghost of a connection Herc had to face the ugly truth that he ached for so much more. He thought of Chuck constantly. His fingers itched to touch him. His chest ached to feel him close. And it was more than just physical. It had crossed that line a long time ago. Or maybe it had always been there and Herc had just ignored it.

Herc wanted Chuck. When he thought of that smile, those bright blue eyes, the arrogant cut of his jaw, broad chest, wide shoulders, slim hips…fuck. It was sick. Herc knew. But that didn’t stop him from getting hard just thinking about his boy.

He was a coward who lusted after his own flesh and blood. He knew that he should just lock himself away forever. He didn't want to hurt his son, he loved him. But the thought of having him back and not being able to share the drift, the bond, it was all too much. The thought of their shared kiss brought as much shame as it did lust.

He paced the grated metal floor of their shared bunk. He stayed decidedly away from Chuck’s side of the room. The last two days he had spent locked inside. Chuck would be cleared to move about the dome if everything went as scheduled. The bloody sprog was healing fast. Herc cursed his own bum shoulder, and not for the first time.

His physiotherapist had assured him he was improving much faster than she had expected but what else had he to do than his exercises and feel sorry for himself? Wallowing, that was what he was now, all he did.

The dome was in chaos, but so was the whole world. Herc helped keep some of the administration going, but mostly just as a figure head. Choi, Mako, and Bennett had become leaders in their own right while graciously granting Herc and Chuck time to heal.

Herc scoffed at the idea. He didn't need time to heal. He was broken far before the kaiju attacked. He knew what a sick monster he was. If he were locked away in here then at least he’d never risk hurting Chuck. He’d never lay a hand on him. He’d never even see his boy…

Herc nearly doubled over from the anguish that thought brought. Like he’d been sucker punched through his chest wall and his insides were spilling on to the cold hard floor. He couldn’t do it. To never see Chuck again, never hear his cocky voice, never feel with warmth of his smile. It was a cold and lonely reality Herc knew he could not survive. A rattle at the door took his attention from his deep self loathing.

“Dad. Open the door.” Herc stood frozen in the middle of the room. “Let me in, old man!” He could hear the tension and the pain in Chuck’s voice. He moved.

It was as if the door weighed tenfold what it had when Herc had sealed himself inside. Chuck stood just across the threshold. His hospital gown was covered by a familiar leather jacket cautiously hanging over his shoulders. Loose sweat pants that were not his own slung low on thin hips.

“What are you doing in here?” Why are you hiding from me? Herc could see pain cross the younger man’s face. They may no longer share the drift connection but he knew how to read his son.

“You should have stayed in medical.” The older man swallowed tightly. He didn't mean to sound so angry. The look of hurt that crossed Chuck's features was enough to make Herc want to eat his words.

“You’re hurt.” He back pedaled. He looked down to the floor in shame. The whole point of everything was that he not hurt Chuck but here he was doing exactly that.

“You’re right, I am hurt.” Chuck pushed his way into the room. He had lost a fair amount of weight in such a short amount of time. Herc's hands trembled with the thought of reaching out to touch the other man. He thought he might break him.

Chuck seemed to be paying no mind to Herc's inner struggles as he stomped around the room. He dropped the jacket from his shoulders carefully and held it in one hand.

“These things will heal.” He lifted bandage wrapped forearms as he moved in closer to Herc. “But that’s not what we’re talking about now, Dad.” Chuck’s arms slowly lowered as he took a cautious step even closer. They had never really had an issue with personal space. For years they had shared small quarters as a military family in sub-par barracks and even less as Jager co-pilots. But this, this single step and they both could taste the tension in the air.

“Chuck.” Herc plead, retreating back a step. He wasn't ready to face this, to have to put and end to everything he wanted. Chuck was still. Herc dared look up and found the blond staring down at the floor as well. His shoulders were hunched, his breathing ragged.

“I need to feel you again… inside… it hurts to be alone. Doesn’t it hurt you?” When he looked up Herc lost his breath. Watery eyes so desperate with need held him paralyzed. The younger man reached out with a shaking hand.

“Chuck.” Herc couldn’t back away, nor could he bring himself to reach back for his son. He stood frozen as he watched the younger man breaking.

“Dad, please. I know you felt it too. When our bond was cut—I know it was for the right reasons but it hurt so goddamn much.” Tears were dropping freely from blood shot eyes. It stabbed through Herc like a knife.

“Chuck, what you’re asking, you just… you don’t understand.” Herc's resolve was gone. He knew as soon as Chuck asked anything of him, just said the words, he would do it. His hand wrapped tight around the back of Chuck's neck holding him close. But still he fought it.

“I understand. Remember what I said before I left? I know it all. I heard it all inside the drift.” He paused and took a deep inhale to steady himself. He stepped in close letting his body soak up the warmth his father always seemed to radiate. “If you weren’t such a pig headed old man you’d have heard me needing you, too.”

“No, Chuck.” Guilt swelled tight and hot inside of Herc’s chest. He must have tainted his son in the drift. Somehow he had passed along his filthy shameful need and tricked his son into thinking it was his own.

“Fuck you! I died that day, old man. I walked out of here knowing I would die, that I’d never see you again! I gave up everything. I gave you up to save this whole thing, to save the world, to save you.” Chuck was breathing heavily. His pale eyes were red with anger but heavy with tears. His movements were halted and staggering due to his wounds but Herc could see that fire still inside. Chuck’s scarred face was still beautiful but twisted by his fears. All of that confusion and need was tearing him up inside.

“I somehow made it back here alive so the least that you can do is give me the one thing I ask for, the one thing I need.” Herc could see rage and hunger building up in crystal blue eyes that were so much like his own.

“I’m so sorry, Chuck.” Herc clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to touch his son so badly, pull him close, soothe everything away.

“Please—Dad, I, just please—” That broke him. Hot tears were falling heavily from Chuck’s eyes. He was begging. Herc was defenseless, completely unarmed against Chuck’s pleas.

“Anything, I’ll give you anything you need.” Herc croaked. Suddenly not a thing could keep him away from holding Chuck close. He took the steps between them. His left hand reached up, shaky. Chuck turned his head and rubbed his lips onto that worn palm. Herc had no power to deny his boy anything.

The leather jacket hit the floor with a light thud but neither was paying attention. Chuck’s bandaged arms wrapped tight around Herc’s shoulders. He was careful to avoid his father’s still injured arm. And careful not to drag his own bandages too roughly over the other man. Their lips met in much the same way they had right after Chuck had been brought in from the chopper. Desperation caused them to claw at each other. Hungry need blurred reality. Chuck’s knees were suddenly shaking and Herc knew he was in no condition to carry the younger man. He pulled back only a fraction so he could nod and guide him back towards the bed.

Herc heard a small whimper as they moved together. It stabbed him through the heart hearing that weak noise. Chuck was so young, so vulnerable, and he had abandoned him. Herc was instantly on him, boxed him in, left him no space to breathe, or think, or doubt.

When they stopped their backwards waltz he had Chuck pressed tightly up against his small bed. His right arm reached behind and undid the ties that held the hospital gown together. Chuck was shaking. As the fabric dropped to the floor their eyes met. No words passed between them, just heavy breath and what felt like the entire weight of their shared past crushing down upon them. This was the moment, Chuck needy and disheveled, Herc fully dressed but just as ruined. This was the decision they had to make together. 

Chuck brought his hand forward and tangled his shaking fingers in Herc’s warm grasp. The older man looked down at where they held each other. Looking back up into Chuck’s eyes he nearly flinched away from the raw need and vulnerability he found there. Chuck, his son, how many times in the boy’s life had he seen this look? How many times had the boy looked at him begging for love, protection, anything from his own father?

For once Herc was not willing to let his son feel unloved, unneeded, untouched. Herc brought his other hand up and cupped Chuck’s cheek. “I love you, Chuck. I’m sorry I never said it enough.” Tears were stinging his eyes as he leaned forward and met Chuck half way. He tasted warm and needy. Chuck pressed against him searching for more.

“I love you, too. I need you.” He whimpered between kisses. Chuck squirmed out of his sweatpants and plastered himself to Herc’s frame. “It hurts.” Those two words nearly broke Herc in half. He knew exactly how his boy was suffering. Touch starved, searching for a decades old connection that was no longer there. Maybe they could stop the pain.

“We lost the drift connection, but I think we can get some of it back.” Herc hoped, he prayed.

“Please.” Chuck’s fingers dug into Herc’s back needing to be closer, skin to skin, more. Herc laid his son back on to the bed, before he could growl an order Chuck had his legs splayed in invitation. Herc came to stand between those milky, perfect thighs.

Careful, must be careful. Chuck was still broken in more ways than one. Once his body healed his son would be more scarred than Herc. Not weak, but strong, so incredibly strong with badges of honor to show for it.

They were both ready, desperate for more. Chuck mewled as Herc’s eyes swept over him. His fingers dug into the sheets beneath him. Herc was brought back to the miles of skin and muscle below Chuck’s naval. He was perfection no matter his scars. Chuck’s cock stood out weeping beads of precome. The sight made Herc’s hands itch. Damn shoulder, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself over his boy and touch him at the same time with just one good arm. And they needed touch. It’s what this whole mess boiled down to. They needed to rebuild the bond, the drift connection, without a Jaeger.

Herc stretched across the bed to the bedside drawer. He pulled out an old and barely used bottle of lube. He heard Chuck chortle quietly and hitch up his hips in an effort to once again center Herc’s attention to himself.

“Greedy boy.” Herc grumbled deeply but it only made Chuck preen more. His boy had always vied so strongly for his attention. Now that they had finally crossed that line he was free to give the younger man everything and anything he had always asked for. Herc quickly coated his palm in a healthy portion of lube and placed the still cool mess on Chuck’s cock.

A sharp moan fell from the other’s lips, his eyes dropping closed as his mouth hung open. Oh, the things Herc would do to hear that noise over and over again. The lube warmed quickly as Herc coated Chuck’s thickened cock and dripping down to his balls and below. Herc spent time tracing the flushed dark outline of his son’s dick. It was similar to his own in length and girth, heavy when so filled with blood.

Chuck whimpered more and Herc came back up to his mouth to lick and taste and bite those perfect pink lips. His hand continued the slow torture as he ate from Chuck’s mouth. When the boy pulled back to gasp for air Herc moved to attack his neck. The pale thick column was etched with ligature marks and bruising. Herc decided he would not sleep until he tasted every mark, kissed away every hurt.

Chuck's own hands were nowhere near idle. They moved slowly over every muscle and contour of Herc's body. They traced every freckle and mapped every scar. When Herc's firm grip would twist and tug at his cock those strong fingers would dig into flesh without remorse. Chuck began writhing his hips harder, faster. Herc could tell he was close. But they were nowhere near done.

With one solid slow stroke he moved his hand down to Chuck’s tightened balls. Chuck moved as if to protest but a sharp nip and warning growl from Herc had him laying back in easy submission as he never had in his life. Herc marveled as he followed the trail of lube down even further, teasing and testing. Chuck purred and cooed at having his perineum stroked and massaged. When Herc circled a finger around the tight opening below Chuck’s eyes shot open and Herc pulled back.

“No! Keep going, please, please, that felt so good.” He begged. Desperately Chuck moved his hands to clutch hold of Herc and put him back at the opening. He grabbed the lube bottle and gladly poured more over Herc’s searching fingers.

Chuck laid himself out, splayed his thighs wide open. Herc positioned himself so his fingers could explore more thoroughly. All the while Herc lavished Chuck’s chest with kisses, licks, small tender nips of teeth. The majority of the left side of Chuck’s chest was covered in discolored pink skin, still healing and remodeling. The nipple was visible but disfigured compared to his right. Herc felt split between shame, sorrow, and desire. He knew Chuck didn’t need his pity, he needed his love.

He traced both nipples in turn, swirling his tongue over each as his fingers teased and traced over Chuck’s tight ring. He pressed in but only with shallow thrusts. Chuck was nearly melting in his arms as he moved deeper. It wasn’t until he found the boy’s prostate that he added a second finger. Watching his son jump with pleasure as if electrocuted was amazing. His own cock was throbbing and begging him for attention but he dare not touch it yet. He wanted this to be for Chuck. And besides, he would need his stamina for later.

“Fuck, Daddy.” Chuck bucked and pressed his hips up. Herc was working in his third finger as Chuck began to beg. His blood burned like fire at Chuck's words.

“What do you want, baby? What do you need?” He slowly pulled out his fingers, watching the hole gape and grasp at nothing. Chuck writhed as Herc coated his cock in lube and moved to seat himself between pale out stretched thighs. He groaned while rubbing his cockhead over Chuck’s fluttering hole. He had to shut his eyes to try and control himself. He was so close to losing his mind.

“Please, need you inside of me. Daddy, I need it so bad.” Chuck’s fingers dug into Herc’s back as his own moved lower to grope his ass.

“Fuck, so fucking hot. Shit, I love you, Chuck.” He whispered as he leaned over and took his boy’s mouth in a claiming kiss. He felt Chuck surrender and open to him. Slowly he pushed into the hot and well lubed flesh of his son.

He stopped just as the head popped past the first ring of muscle. He watched Chuck’s face carefully. There were no signs of outright pain but his eyes were screwed shut tight and his head thrown back. A warm pink flush covered all of his pale skin. Fuck, he was beautiful.

Herc slowly moved deeper inside. He restrained himself as best he could and marveled as Chuck’s sucking hole pulled him deeper and deeper until he bottomed out completely. Chuck wrapped his legs around Herc’s waist to keep him close. He experimented with clenching down on to his father’s cock.

“Little minx.” Herc cursed. They both smiled as Herc began to thrust and pick up speed. It took him a few solid thrusts to be sure he found Chuck’s prostate but before long he had his boy crying out.  
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes.” Chuck’s hips canted up to meet him. Herc watched his boy with awe, left hand alternating between light gentle stroking and digging in to pale skin when the angle was just right. Chuck watched him back, counting every freckle, holding on to strong shoulders.

When it all became too much Chuck pushed up so he could shut his eyes and kiss Herc’s mouth.  
Taste, touch, this intimacy they had been needing. It was almost as good as the drift. It all served to overwhelm and pull them both under. There was no chance of escape. The sucking wet clutch of Chuck’s ass, hands all over their bodies, sweet moans and pleading. They were powerless to resist. Herc’s cock throbbed inside of Chuck’s tight heat as he came.

His world went almost full white out as Chuck’s hole sucked the seed from his dick. He would have loved to give in right then and there and pass out in his boy’s arms, but he still had a bond to complete.

His left hand was clumsy so he moved himself down the bed. Warmth and wet heat surrounded Chuck’s cock and the younger man had to hold on for dear life as his father sucked his cock. The taste was salty and sharp from the precome dripping out of the tip. Herc drank it down greedily. He felt wetness on his chin, the mixture of lube and his come dripping out of Chuck. Just the thought of that had his own cock straining to get hard again.

Thick fingers found their way into Chuck’s stretched hole as he continued to plunder Chuck’s cock. The boy was close. He could taste the increase in precome and feel the stuttering of his hips.

“I’m gonna, fuckgonnacome!” Chuck screamed out into the room as his hips bucked up and Herc swallowed down every last drop. Taste, touch, smell, feel, they were immersed in it all, together.

He curled up behind his boy. Chuck hummed and backed his body up until his ass was grinding into Herc’s crotch. Sprog, Herc nearly chuckled aloud. He could see how exhausted Chuck was and still the boy was insistent and foolhardy. Herc was happy to see not everything about his son had been changed.

With his right arm at his side he had his strength. Chuck had lost so much weight since his return Herc didn’t even need to lift the arm much to hold the younger man to his chest. It felt good to hold his boy close, but sick to think of all the things that made this now possible.

They lay still for long moments of silence collecting their strength, feeling a quiet thrumming not unlike a drift connection building between them again.

“The techs had to sedate me to sleep in the med unit.” Herc’s heart clenched, he didn’t have to ask why. Nightmares, terrors happened to all of them in the deceitful clutches of sleep. He could only imagine how much worse Chuck had it now with the burns and breaks, dying, surviving, a severed drift connection, rejection. Herc held him tighter and let him speak.

“In the ICU I was pretty drugged up all of the time, what with the burn treatments and all.” Chuck felt Herc twitch behind him and relaxed to sink in deeper into his old man’s embrace. “Some of them would tell me what I was screaming for, a lot of the time they said I was shouting for you.” Chuck ignored the hot splash of wetness that dropped on to his shoulder from above and how Herc’s good arm shifted up with the sudden need to rub his eyes. “They promised they would call you… and ask.”

“Chuck, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to hurt you more.” Herc’s voice was watery and thick.

“You’re here now.” Chuck stroked the arm that crossed over his chest and held the wrist tightly. “And I’m not leaving you ever again.”

Chuck drifted off into a restful sleep. No nightmares could touch him while he was wrapped up in Herc’s arms.


End file.
